


fight the tide until the day we die

by smol_avengers



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Bucky Barnes's Plums, Bucky's a scavenger, M/M, Motercycles, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Nightmares, Steve doesn't know when to give up, Trackers, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, everyone calls Steve 'Cap', russian words, set in the time between TWS and CW, so is Sam Wilson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:14:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22673116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smol_avengers/pseuds/smol_avengers
Summary: As painful as it is to remember, Soldat knows that he has to. It is just another mission, in his mission-oriented mind. So he eats his plums and he sits and waits.In which the man who used to be Bucky Barnes hides from the world, and the man who wants to be Steve Rogers again tries to find him.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Kudos: 20





	fight the tide until the day we die

Soldat has escaped. 

_They_ do not come for it. They do not call for it. It would have known - the trackers planted messily in it's brain and liver and arm would have been white hot, stomach-turning pain. It would have been enough to send it back, until the next time it escaped. 

But it's brain and liver and fucking metal arm remain cold and unusable. No- that's not right- it's arm is usable. It just hasn't had any use for it, since it escaped. No orders, at least not yet. 

It keeps this arm wrapped in a sleek leather glove. It finds that it likes shabby things, things left out on the street - it finds a pink thermos and a green spatula, finds newspapers with _that man's_ face on it. He seems to be very famous, saving the world every other day, usually by putting himself in some dangerous situation. Soldat finds itself annoyed by it. 

It is used to forgetting, yet it doesn't forget that man. The one with the _glow,_ who fought like the goddamn devil and who looked _sick_ when Soldat's mask cracked off. Went white, like a ghost. Let Soldat smash the cold metal fist into his face, again and again until his cheekbones cracked and he was bleeding. Soldat's targets had never _let_ it hurt them - if they weren't sniped first, they screamed and tried to fight back. But this one just... lay there, telling Soldat something even as it's fist split into the face.

_"Till the end of the line, Buck-"_

**Emotion is not allowed for optimal performance.**

Soldat hears the voice in it's head and nods, agreeing. Optimal performance is needed, no matter if there's no mission. Maybe it's a test.

It walks out of it's apartment, and starts down the many, many stairs. 

______

Soldat buys сливы each day, from an open market. It had overheard an old woman speaking to another. Saying that her memory returned the more сливы she ate. 

It knows it does not remember much. Memory is not needed for mission. All it needs are it's hands and knives and guns.

But it does remember the crunch of bones and a flash of red hair. It remembers gunshots. It remembers freezing, numbing, slurring - it remembers cold.

It _thinks_ it remembers a small, skinny boy, his hands dirty and his nose bleeding. It _thinks_ it remembers a glow surrounding this boy, like he was special. He is not smiling, he is glaring, his eyes bright and wide - 

The memory dissipates quickly, as Soldat knows all memories do, and it takes 5 сливы in it's flesh hand and places them in a bag. 

It responds to the question the seller asks in Romanian. It gives a small smile. Smiling is not a thing it is programmed for, but everyone around it smiles, and so it copies to blend in.

The smile is creaky. It's lips are dry, and they crack. 

It pays for it's сливы. They are warm from the sunlight that the market is immersed in, and it thanks the seller in Romanian. 

It _is_ programmed for languages. It knows 57. English is not it's main program - They taught it Russian first. 

Most of it's targets spoke English. 

It takes it's bag and it walks back up the many, many stairs, into it's hideaway. 

______

Steve Rogers wants to throw up. 

He can feel the bile rising in his throat, but he swallows it down and turns away instead. His hands mindlessly grab fistfuls of hair and _pull._ He takes deep breaths, like Sam has taught him. 

_In for 4. Out for 8._

They've found footage on a mission, deep in a lab God knows where. Footage of Hydra's experiments, specifically. And Steve was half-way through watching one of the videos before he realizes with a sickening jolt that the man that Hydra scientists are wrestling into a metal chair is Bucky. 

He realizes with another jolt - this one of guilt - that he didn't immediately recognize him. 

Bucky looks so fucking scared, so different - the mask is on and his body is heaving and _covered_ with frostbite marks and scars and blood. There's _blood_ covering his Bucky, and they're forcing him into an evil-looking chair. His metal arm is making wild gestures, maybe sign language, and this is when Steve has to turn away, nauseated and dizzy.

He slides down to the cold concrete floor, covering his eyes like a child. _If I can't see you, you can't see me!_ And then he does throw up, hearing a kid's voice in his head, in a place where no kid should ever be. 

Steve doesn't hear her until she says something, but he isn't worried he's going deaf. Natasha Romanoff will let you hear or see her only when she wants you to. 

"Cap," she says, and Steve looks up. He doesn't know if he explains the video in his head or out loud, but either way, Natasha seems to know. She turns off the footage and slides down next to him. 

"He's- they did that to him, Nat. You saw, right? They- the chair, they -" and he has to break off because he can feel the bile coming up again. 

Natasha puts her hand on his shoulder, looking slightly sick as well. "I know. I know -" and Steve knows she's going to try to say something comforting. He pushes himself up off the ground before she can, wiping his mouth on the back of his fist. He can't handle comfort, doesn't know _what_ he can handle. The only thing that he really knows is that he needs to find Bucky. He won't leave him there.

Steve does not look back. He walks out of the room. He knows that Nat could easily catch him if she wanted to, but no one tries to stop him. 

______

It’s been two weeks. Soldat is getting sick. 

It remembered getting sick before. This sick is better than before. It’s lungs hurt, and it’s head hurts, and it’s stomach hurt, but Soldat will handle it. The sick before was fever and projectile vomiting, dizziness and a feeling like it’s chest was splitting apart. Yes, it can handle this new sick. 

It has been living off сливы. The concept of eating is... strange. It has not been programmed for eating - it has always fed through a tube in it’s throat. But now there is no tube, and so Soldat had watched others and taught itself how to take a bite out of the smooth fruit and _chew,_ gently, and it’s body seemed to already know how to swallow.

It repeats this motion over and over until there is nothing but the pit left. It spits the pit into a bin. When it gets too weak to get the bin, it tosses them across the floor. 

The floor, so far, is littered with слива pits. 

**Author's Note:**

> this is more a rant fic than anything. A lot of stuff is going on right now, so hoping that this will help me calm down a lil :)
> 
> Title from Ghosts by Banners (great song!)


End file.
